THE STORM BEFORE THE FIRE

Amira sprints through the rain slicked streets of Paris, thunder cracking like gunfire overhead. Dominic's men close in, dark shadows in the downpour. She clutches the dossier Dominic's order for Celeste's execution as her heart drums in terror and fury.

She ducks into an abandoned church, breath ragged. Behind her, footsteps echo. A whisper cuts through the storm: "Find her. Bring her to Dominic."

Amira slips behind the altar, texts Rosalie: "Proof sent. Dominic signed Celeste's death."

Suddenly, a figure grabs her from behind a knife at her throat. "You shouldn't have taken that, darling," a man hisses.

Amira elbows him, breaking free, slashing his face with his own blade. Blood mixes with rain as she flees through the rear door into the night, disappearing into the labyrinthine streets.

Finally, she reaches a taxi. "Zion Carter's penthouse. Now," she gasps.

As the car speeds through the storm, Amira's eyes blaze. No more hiding. No more running. She would confront Zion, Dominic, Theo, every last one. And this time, she would bury them.